Shattered
by shadowwalkerpi
Summary: This season's Flute Section Leader - aspiring future drum major's - dreams may have been shattered before they even had a chance to form, when a terrible accident robs her of any chance, but there's always a silver lining.
1. New Beginnings

* * *

The halls stood empty, dark in the mid-morning sun. The lights were off, the clutter a battlefield. Desks, lined the walls like injured soldiers at an infirmary. The well ones stacked neatly, receiving no special attention. Stopping at them, the lone figure ran a slight hand over the seat.

The cold composite was reassuring, stoic. It wasn't broken, but if it was, it was repairable. All things were repairable, if they didn't breathe. A sigh, and the figure pushed forward.

The silence, deafening, the sounds and voices in the mind, filling in the blanks of real life. The happiness, the despair, the memories. All seemed too fresh here.

Settling down at the end of a row of blue benches, sat the lone figure. Alone, broken, in body and soul. Dreams ripped away, logic, and common sense proved they couldn't come back, not the way the figure wanted.

She, she sat alone, contemplating these halls, that'd she never walk again. The squeak of sneakers a distant memory already. The slam of a locker, the laughter, the memories. Nothing would be the same.

Outwardly she, she was composed. But inside, inside she was a mess, inconsolable in her despair. No one knew, no one. Not her parents, her therapist, her friends, no one. They, if they knew, believed she was fine. She liked it that way.

She drew in a sharp breath when the doors down the hall slammed shut. Another one was here. She had planned it to be last, she tried to be last. She couldn't face them, she was afraid.

Running, running down the hallway was a tall teenage boy. His hair cropped fairly short, but nothing like the buzz cut her brother was sporting. Sighing to herself she sat back in the chair slightly. Just Lee, it's just Lee.

Lee, she couldn't believe it, Lee was late. That meant trouble, the last thing Lee needed to be was late. Lee, always smart, responsible, punctual, was late. Lee newly elected Drum Major of the West Side Wildcat's Marching Band. Great responsibility, and he may have blown it already.

He skidded to a stop in front of her. "Kendra?" He moved closer, sitting in the seat next to her. "Kenny, why are you here?"

"Because- Because I need to be." See looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. The fingerless gloves, red striped stared back up at her.

"No, you know you don't need to be." He grabbed one of her hands. "You don't need to be. They would understand. They- it would be okay."

"No." She rasped. "They would pity me, I don't want their pity. I need to face this, myself. I- I just need to do this. To explain, to-"

"You don't need to explain anything. Nothing's your fault."

"I know that. But if I don't explain, they'll still wonder, they'll look at me funny." She gazed down to the left at the spokes of her chair. "As much as- as I need to do this. I'm not sure I can."

"It's your choice. It's your choice."

"I know, it's just that- that I'm afraid."

* * *

Lee strode into the band room confidently, despite his tardiness. Twenty-one faces looked up at him. The youth starring comically, the adults in the room, coming close to fuming. Lee tilted his head to the office, asking to speak privately.

Picking up on the message they walked to join him. "Baxter," The younger of the pair snapped. "Where've you been?"

"I was talking to Kendra, out in the hall, she-" Lee started to explain.

"Kendra's here? We've been waiting for you two for ten minutes." The gray hair one accused.

"Look, I'm sorry, but don't blame this on Kendra. She's had a rough summer."

Skeptically the first one raised an eyebrow.

"Look, this is her story to tell, but simply put she's –"

"It's okay Lee." A strong voice interrupted. "I can explain myself."

Three sets of eyes fell to the young woman sitting a foot behind Lee, her hands poised on the wheels of her chair.

* * *

To Be Continued ?


	2. Lunch

"Okay, sectionals start at 1:00. So be ready." Mr. C announced as he dismissed the class for lunch.

With a sigh Kendra headed for the door to leave the band room. Luckily enough, the flutes were on the top row, right next to he door, making for a quick and easy escape.

She rolled over to the middle of the commons, the central area of the school, which the band used for lunch, and set the brakes. Twisting in the chair she unhooked the lunch box from the handle on the back of the chair.

The hall was still dark, the emergency lights providing enough to see by. A shadow fell onto her lap causing her to look up. "Hey Lee."

"Kendra." He smiled setting his bag down on the bench next to him. "Want a boost?" He asked gesturing to the high ledge behind the chairs, a popular place for students to sit.

"Sure, go forth." She said shifting forward in the chair.

Bending down Lee, scoped her up and placed her on the ledge. After doing so and giving her her lunch box, he hopped up there himself. "You, my friend, are as light as a feather."

"Are not!" She scoffed. Scanning the room she spotted another friend. "Scott." She called out, drawing the name out long.

"Me." He responded, drawing it out an equal length.

"Have a magical summer?" Kendra asked, picking the crust off her sandwich.

"Gah, no magic." Kendra smiled evilly. "Are you ever going to drop that?"

"Nope, got no reason to."

Scott just shook his head. "So you get something worked out with Mr. C?"

"Yup, I get to keep my sectional leader duties, playing the stands, and whatever else I deem myself capable of doing."

"'Whatever you deem yourself capable of doing?' That's really vague."

"I know, gives me lots of freedom. Freedom I can use to sit on the sidelines to yell at unparallel flutes. So exciting. I needed to give myself see wiggle room."

"Well if all you're doing is yelling at your friends, we better not have any angled flutes." Lee commented.

Kendra scoffed. "Hah, some friends."

"Uh oh, that doesn't sound good."

"I haven't talked to a single one of them once, despite my efforts. They have never returned my calls, why should I have expected now to be any different."

"Do they even know?" Scott asked.

"Nope, and apparently, they don't seem to care." Kendra snarled, sending death glares to several girls on the other side of the room. Turning to the right she stared about the room, and noticed a kid coming their way. "Scooter!"

"Kendra!" The kid replied.

"Scooter!"

"Kendra!"

"Stop." Scott interrupted.

"Sorry." Kendra muttered. "Howiz you?"

"I hate freshman." Scooter commented.

"Who doesn't?" Scott clipped.


End file.
